


Daddy

by Anotherlostblogger



Series: The Way We Do Things [1]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Aftercare, Daddy Kink, Friends to Lovers, M/M, No beta we post like men, baths, kinda beforecare really, soft vibes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2020-12-16 07:10:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21032276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anotherlostblogger/pseuds/Anotherlostblogger
Summary: Ryan can't believe he said it. He doesn't know what he's gonna do about the fallout.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> We all know why.

Ryan still can’t believe he said it.

It came out of his mouth, shaking and tinny like it had bounced around his throat before bursting outside—like it couldn’t be held in much longer.

“It’s not like he’s my...daddy or anything,” Ryan had said, and he’s mortified at the memory.

He saw it, the moment it registered on Teej’s face—the expression blooming from ‘What the fuck’ to almost wicked delight at Ryan’s blunder.

“I don’t know why I said that,” Ryan had said, but even if this stayed between them and the editing team the damage was done. Ryan rolled his shoulders back, pretended to be chill. “Have fun with that one, Internet.”

And they would. Fuck knows they’d have a field day. Ryan spent the rest of the night trying to keep his mouth closed before he said something even more stupid about how much explicit and painfully romantic fan fiction he definitely hasn’t read about him and his best friend.

This one's on him. He’s read too much, let it get to his head.

He doesn’t want to go into the lighthouse for his own solo session for more than one reason. The second Shane’s alone with Teej and Devon they’re gonna tell him.

Ryan chickens out, comes stumbling out of the lighthouse with some bullshit about needing to work his way up to it but Shane shepherds him back inside.

“Okay, okay,” Ryan says, still not used to being towered over by Shane, even when he’s kidding around, it’s...a lot.

Shane spends so much of his time pretending to be small—bending his back to accommodate everyone he meets, speaking in soft, approachable tones. Only Ryan really gets to see him like this.

Well, Ryan and...everyone else, he reminds himself. Everything is on camera. Everything.

That anxious thrumming energy is filled with giddiness too like it is when Shane’s around him. He wasn’t lying—Shane makes these nights a thousand times easier.

He’s almost relieved to get some chatter from the spirit box, if only for the distraction. He can imagine Shane’s face when they tell him.

‘Daddy???’ Shane will say, and he’ll laugh and laugh like it’s ridiculous. Ryan will never hear the end of it.

It’s a step above the ‘Papa’ jokes—Jesus Christ, why couldn’t he have said Papa?? It would have still been weird but it didn’t come with all the other...assumptions Daddy did.

Ryan stops at the second set of steps to pinch at the bridge of his nose and close his eyes. If he has to deal with ‘who’s your daddy’ jokes for the next six months he’s going to lose his goddamn mind.

But the spirit box does its job and nearly makes him piss his pants like the little baby everyone already thinks he is, and Ryan is suitably distracted.

When he skips out of the lighthouse, drenched in sweat and babbling about what he heard Shane makes some snarky congratulations and Ryan completely forgets about the awkwardness of what he’d said earlier.

“I’m gonna take a shower, and I’m going to go to bed—“ Ryan lists off, high off adrenaline and racing to the car, feeling the ghosts at his heels.

“Easy, easy,” Shane admonishes, gentling him, and Ryan obeys. It’s instinct by this point.

“Okay,” he says, slowing his gait, and his mind stops racing so much as he lets the exhaustion of the night creep upon him as they stroll towards the vans.

Shane pats his shoulder as they make it to the parking lot, outro done, their mics just turned off. Teej and Mark will follow with the rest of the gear, but their job is done, for now.

“Good boy,” Shane says, and Ryan feels the blood drain from his face before making a run to his cheeks as Shane gets in.

It’s hard to see Shane in the back of the van without obviously staring, and the rolling door slams and goes dark before he can get a read on him.

Shane’s a goof when he’s “on,” full of this lovable chaotic energy—but most of the time, the rest of the time, he’s painfully hard to read.

“Think the ghost is following us this time?” Shane asks, finally looking back at him.

Ryan manages a soft huff, forcing himself to move on, to joke like usual. “Put a light on your big head, and maybe you’ll draw them to you.”

Shane’s tiny small just grows.

“Lighthouse joke, nice,” Matt says from the driver's seat. “I thought we could use more of them but most of them are kinda phallic.”

“What?” Devon asks, crinkling her nose.

“You know,” Matt says, shifting gears. “Cause they’re kinda like...dicks.” 

“Oh, come on,” Devon groans. 

“You don’t see it?” Matt asks. “I feel like that’s what every English teacher talks about.” 

“What do you think?” Shane asks, looking directly at him again. “Think they’re just big ol’ boners for the seamen?”

Matt gives Shane finger guns in the mirror while Ryan rubs at the bridge of his nose, trying to be Producer Ryan and not laugh at a junior high joke.

“I think, we should maybe, be a little less gross,” Ryan says. “For Devon’s sake.”

“Thank you,” Devon says, sending a look Shane’s way. “You guys can talk about your boners back in your room.”

“Then we shall,” Shane acquiesces politely, but Ryan feels himself break out in a nervous sweat.

‘Not like I’ve thought about Shane’s big ol’ boner before,’ Ryan thinks maddeningly, rubbing his palms against his jeans.

“You doing alright?” Shane checks in, like he does after he’s had a particularly harrowing night, and Ryan knows he must look like a hot mess.

“Nothing a shower and vending machine snacks can’t cure,” he says with forced cheeriness and Shane hums in agreement.

Giving back into his exhaustion might help, he figures, but soon as they arrive at the hotel he’s swaying on his feet.

Ryan stands by to wait as Teej and Mark make their way over to give them their room keys and numbers.

“Hey, you might need this,” Shane says, catching up, and setting Ryan’s overnight bag at his feet.

“Oh,” Ryan says, yawning. “Gosh, thanks-“

“What a good Daddy,” Teej says and every thought escapes him as Ryan turns red as a stop sign, unable to control his expressions even when he really wants to.

Why can’t he just laugh this off like a normal person? 

On the other hand, Shane looks entirely the same. Un-fucking-believable.

“Takes one to know one,” Shane says all cheery and entirely unflappable.

Teej winks. “Speaking of...gotta check-in with the missus. See you all tomorrow.”

Shane turns back to Ryan who then decides to stand very still, like in those nature documentaries where deer freeze up in the grass and wait to see if the lion will pass by....as though doing so will make Shane forget he’s there.

Strangely, Shane looks back to the elevator, and Ryan thinks, faintly, he might be about to get out of this one.

“C’mon, lil guy,” Shane says, picking up Ryan’s bag with his own again. “Bath and bed, you know the routine.”

Stunned, Ryan follows him to the elevator, “but-what-“ crazily the next words out of his mouth aren’t ‘have you lost your mind’ but, a whiny, “what about the vending machine?”

“If you’re good,” Shane says, and Ryan feels like he should laugh, say it’s a good bit, but he practically floats to their room instead.

Shane opens their door. Two double beds as usual. He puts both of their bags on the same bed. Not as usual.

Toeing out of his shoes, Shane goes into the bathroom, leaving Ryan to stand in the middle of the room in a dreamlike state, afraid of breaking whatever is happening right now and unsure of what it means.

It sounds like it means Shane’s drawing him a bath.

Ryan hasn’t had a bath since that sad bubble-less jacuzzi.

“Ryan,” Shane calls, and Ryan snaps out of his trance. “Don’t make me ask again.”

Ryan takes a deep breath and ventures into the bathroom.

Shane is sitting on the ground, knees on the bathroom rug, jacket off, sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

This should be ridiculous.

Shane looks at him, and it feels like the only ridiculous thing is that he’s hesitating—his fingers frozen over his Hawaiian shirt buttons.

Shane arches a brow—a challenge—and Ryan begins to undress.

They’ve been virtually naked around each other before, but this is undoubtably different. 

Shane doesn’t do a single thing except touch the water and make sure it’s the right temperature, and turn it off when it’s high enough but by the time Ryan’s naked he’s partially hard.

He freezes up again under Shane’s scrutiny, but Shane doesn’t stare.

“C’mon,” Shane says. “Be a big boy and get in the tub.”

Ryan gets in.

“There we go,” Shane says, even as the water sloshes around and inevitably splashes over the edges and gets Shane a bit across his button-up.

“S-Sorry,” Ryan says, and he’s sitting kind awkwardly in the middle, knees pressed to his chest, shivering out of anxiety but Shane just says, “psh, it’s just a little water, baby,” and something in Ryan relaxes a little bit more.

“C’mere,” Shane says, and he helps rearrange Ryan’s limbs until he’s actually as relaxed as he can possibly be—even though his skin is on fire from all the spots Shane touched.

“Shall we start with your hair?”

“Yeah,” Ryan says in a small voice and Shane gets Ryan’s hair nice and wet, just cupping his hands and dripping bathwater over him. It’s maybe not the most practical way to wash his hair, but Ryan feels like he’s holding his breath half the time, feeling the warm rivulets cascade down his face and across his chest. 

He thinks Shane notices them, too. 

The shampoo bottle sample is enough that it squirts a sizable, obscene amount in Shane’s hands. Ryan wonders if Matt would think that was phallic too.

Shane’s hands rub against Ryan’s scalp and Ryan melts into the bath. He becomes nothing. He’s just bubbles.

“You like that, huh?” Shane asks, and he sounds a mixture of fond and something else—Ryan can only imagine what he must sound like.

“Yeah,” Ryan says dreamily.

“Mmm,” Shane says and he rinses it off, so carefully Ryan doesn’t get any in his eyes.

The next is his body. Ryan’s limbs feel like jello, it’s hard to obey Shane and be good for him, but he does his best, moving when he asks.

“You were so good tonight,” Shane says, breaking tranquil silence as he runs a washcloth over Ryan’s shoulder. “So brave.”

Ryan gets a lump in his throat. “I don’t know about that-”

“I do,” Shane says more firmly.

He washes Ryan’s chest and Ryan can feel the heat of him as he touches him, even as he doesn’t know what to say.

He brushes over his pecs, over his nipples, and Ryan breathes in sharply. 

He doesn’t want to make this weird-he’s afraid of making this weird-maybe this is already weird, Ryan thinks, but Shane interrupts his thoughts.

“I heard what you said,” Shane says quietly. “I mean-they told me, what you said-“

“Shane,” Ryan voices weakly, but he doesn’t know what else he can say that could possibly keep this train from going where it’s already headed.

“-and,” Shane’s voice shakes a little too. “I wanna be that for you—If you want me to.”

Nothing could possibly have prepared him for that. 

“Shane,” Ryan gasps, and he’s a little misty-eyed and ready to snap, unsure of where he’ll spring or in what direction.

“I mean it,” Shane says fiercely. “It doesn’t have to be...anything more, I won’t expect anything else-“

He traces the cloth down Ryan’s chest, stopping before it dips into the bath. “—I’ll keep everything...above water if that’s what you want.”

“Shane,” Ryan says again and it’s like it’s the only word he knows how to say, even though it’s there, resting back on the tip of his tongue. He’s never seen Shane look so earnest, and he thinks it might actually be the death of him.

Ryan takes Shane’s wrist and leads it down below the bathwater, watches those amber eyes and his pink parted lips as he gently brings his hand lower, brushing against his stomach until he brings him to touch his cock.

“Daddy,” Ryan whispers. “Please.”

Shane surges forward and kisses him so hard he almost knocks his head against tile and porcelain. It takes him a moment for his heart to jolt back online and remind his stupid brain to kiss back.

“Sorry,” Shane breathes, pulling back a moment later, hanging over him and the bathwater. “I didn’t ask-“

“Mph, please,” Ryan says, pulling Shane back in to kiss him just as fiercely. “Don’t stop.”

His wet hands tangle at the nape of Shane’s stupid fluffy hair and Shane cups his face, making soft sweet sounds as Ryan bites at his mouth.

In another moment, he feels Shane’s hand cupping the back of his head to keep him from hitting it against the wall this time, being the layer between him and pain.

His free hand pulls at Ryan’s cock and Ryan whines into his mouth.

“Daddy, daddy please,” Ryan begs, and Shane pants against his lips as he jerks him, trying to get him off.

“Come on baby,” Shane says, “I’ve got you-”

And in no time at all, Ryan’s spilling himself into the water.

Shane drains the tub.

He picks Ryan up, swaying and boneless, and towels him dry, lets him lean against him before scooping him up and carrying him to the bed.

Ryan presses himself against Shane’s chest, leaving a damp imprint against his shirt, but wanting to hold onto this moment, leave a mark.

Shane gets him all cozy in bed before he hears it.

Ryan’s stomach growls.

Ryan blushes, turning pleading eyes at Shane who just laughs and looks at the ceiling. “What do you want?” he asks.

“Snickers, please,” Ryan says. “And...a coke?”

Shane kisses the top of his head, takes their hotel key and steps out.

Ryan wonders if this is when he should begin to panic, but instead, he just lies there, letting himself be weightless and warm. 

Shane comes back in no time at all, and he hands Ryan his snack.

“Does this mean I was good?” Ryan jokes as he opens his snickers, and he feels the indent of Shane sitting down on the side of the bed, atop the duvet.

“Of course,” Shane says gently. “Really good.”

Ryan didn’t expect that would get him, but it does. He feels his ears turn pink.

“Oh,” he says, sipping at his coke. “Good.”

Shane turns on the hotel tv to some channel that does reruns of old eighties movies, and gets in the bed next to him, quietly eating corn nuts while Ryan finishes his reward.

When he’s done, he’s begun nodding off again by the time Shane gently pries the trash out of his hands and says its time for bed.

He tries not to be disappointed when Shane goes into the bathroom to change, coming out in just his tee shirt and boxers. 

The TV is turned off, the fuzzy blue glow leaving them, along with the yellow of the bathroom light.

Now its just darkness as he hears Shane get into the bed next to him.

It’s almost the same as any other night they’ve had before, but it's different now.

“Shane,” he says quietly.

“Hmm?” Shane mumbles.

“Daddy,” Ryan whispers, and he hears Shane stir as he moves closer.

“Yes?”

“I didn’t-I mean earlier-when you--I didn’t help you,” Ryan says softly, and he can almost feel Shane smile as he brushes it off.

“That’s alright,” Shane whispers back.

“No,” Ryan insists, getting petulant. “I want to.”

The sound of shifting against the mattress. Shane swallows. 

“Well, if you’re sure-” he says very softly, and Ryan kisses him.

“Please, daddy,” Ryan begs, “Let me help you.” 

Shane lets out a shaky breath and kisses him, too.

A moment passes before he pulls back, laughing softly.

“What?” 

“You taste like chocolate.”

“Oh,” Ryan says, blushing, “Sorry.”

“No,” Shane amends. “It's good. You taste good.”

Ryan pushes him back into the mattress as he crawls atop him.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Ryan tells him, and he could swear he could feel Shane’s eyes on him like lamplight.

“That’s okay,” Shane says, and he’s cupping his ass with those large hands, and Ryan’s reminded that he’s entirely naked.

“Oh,” Ryan breathes. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Immensely.” Shane gives his ass a squeeze and Ryan swears softly.

He’s hard again, which feels selfish, but means he can’t help but rut a little against one of Shane’s thighs until he feels Shane’s erection practically stabbing into his stomach.

“Fuck,” Ryan says, eyes widening in the dark. “You do have a big ol’ boner.”

Shane laughs quietly, but Ryan thinks he might be blushing.

“It’s proportionate,” Shane insists, but to Ryan, that just means he’s huge.

He’s never done anything remotely like this, but Ryan immediately knows he wants it inside him. 

By the sharp intake of breath below him, Ryan realizes he must’ve said it out loud.

“Back home,” Shane says, ever the realist, but instead of being disappointed, Ryan feels a rush of relief to know he wants to do it again.

“What can I-what can I do?” Ryan asks, eager to please, and Shane rolls his hips and takes both of their cocks together. Ryan gasps at the feeling.

“You just keep doing what you’re doin’,” Shane says, voice thick and slow with desire and Ryan realizes he likes it a lot.

Ryan ruts into Shane’s hand, rubbing their cocks together, and it's a little dry until Shane licks his hand and helps them along.

“Look at you, leaking all over the place,” Shane tsks and Ryan blushes as Shane thumbs at him until he moans.

“Daddy,” Ryan begs again, “Oh,_ fuck-”_

“That’s it, that’s right, baby,” Shane urges him, voice getting thin and tight as he begins to speed up his hand, rushing them to the edge. “Fuck, baby, I-” he rubs against Ryan one more time and he almost blacks out with how fast he comes.

Shane moans loudly, and rubs him this side of too much, making Ryan whimper and shiver and almost pull away before he’s coming too. 

“Daddy!” Ryan cries out and then they’re lying in the heavy-breathing sticky silence for a two solid minutes before Shane says, “Other bed?” and wiggly-limbed, they crawl out and clean up, tossing their luggage on the ground as they crawl into their yet-unchristened bed 

The high gone, for a long moment, they lay on their respective sides of the bed, staring at the ceiling.

“Oh my god,” Ryan says to the ceiling. “Jesus. Holy shit.”

Shane, however, seems completely calm.

“Are we panicking now?” Shane asks blandly, hard to read again.

Ryan swallows and looks at him. “I mean...a little.”

Shane says nothing as he waits. 

“It was really good,” Ryan says.

“Are you about to let me down gently?”

“No!” Ryan interrupts. “Not at all, Jesus Christ, I was just...” he pushes his hair back out of his face. “It was _really _good, I can’t believe we didn’t do it sooner.” 

Shane’s carefully calm face melts into a smile. “Oh.”

Relieved and giddy, Ryan cuddles up to him in bed, taking his hand. “Yeah, Oh.”

Shane squeezes his hand, and then wraps an arm around him, tugging him closer. Ryan follows eagerly.

“What you said,” Ryan says after another moment. “About wanting to...wanting to be that for me.”

Shane holds him tighter, waits. “Yeah?” 

“Did you...did you mean it?”

“I thought tonight would have shown you, I did.”

Ryan turns in his arms, kisses his cheek. “I wanted to make sure you meant...for more than one night.”

He hears Shane’s soft incredulous laughter. “I wouldn’t put all of this on one night...Ryan, you’re my friend.” 

Ryan feels a lump in his throat and Shane is looking at him, holding him so gently.

“You’re my best friend, and I-I’d love to take care of you in any capacity you’ll allow me to.”

Ryan presses his head hard into Shane’s chest, hugs him with his whole body.

This is something he’s wanted, been too afraid to name. He’s filled to the brim with relief and something like love.

“I love you, daddy,” Ryan whispers.

Shane presses a fierce kiss to the top of his head, just the two of them in their dark hotel room. Some things are public about them, some things are speculated--some things may come out...but for now, it's just the two of them.

“I love you, too.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane’s had a sneaking suspicion about a certain side of Ryan for a while now...he just never thought Ryan would be the one to bring it up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone recommended I tell Shane's POV, so... that’s what this is! If that’s your thing, enjoy.
> 
> If not, well, there’ll likely be a sequel, so everybody wins.

* * *

Everything changed for them that night.

Maybe not entirely. Maybe not even all at once, but it did.

Shane woke up in their room to the sound of Ryan softly snoring, half on top of him. Remembering how much they'd sweated all last night (before all that, thank you) he knew it was only made bearable because of the AC, silently churning away, bringing that hotel almost ammoniac clean smell around them. 

It was enough to imagine that nothing at all out of the ordinary had happened if it weren't for the presence of the guilty bedsheets on the offending other bed they'd started in the night before. 

He’s not sure he’s ready for whatever comes after this. 

Ryan stirs in his arms and Shane realizes he’s not sure what he’ll do, what he’ll say when Ryan wakes.

But, lord. What a night.

❀✿❀

Shane was still tugging at his shirt, trying to fan himself just a bit in the sweltering heat when he came outside the lighthouse after his solo session, ready for more 'bargain bin Tony Stark' comments from the peanut gallery, but Ryan had been uncharacteristically silent and on edge when he went in for his turn.

"Get this," Teej starts to say, right when the door closes, before his interview session can begin, but the unusual happens. 

Ryan comes back outside not thirty seconds after going in.

He's smiling, but it's that antsy energy, and he's not quite looking at Shane which means he knows he's being foolish, and Shane doesn't wanna deal with a spiraling Ryan here and now when of all places when it's arguably the least scary place they've ever been to. They've been in actual creepy-ass jail cells and decrepit manors and this lighthouse doesn't come even close. 

It's a fucking cylinder. It's just tall. 

"Get in there!" Shane says, letting his minor annoyance fuel his silly attitude as he herds Ryan back to the house. "You don't need to work up to it!"

"Okay, okay!" Ryan says, half laughing, and Shane knows he's won.

The door shuts and Shane watches, even though he knows Ryan won't go back now. Won't disobey.

He lifts his chin as he watches the door just the same to be sure, like he’d like to see him try, but a minute goes by and then another, so, satisfied, Shane goes back to sit down at the bench.

“Don't know what he was trying to pull," Shane says, uncaring if he sounds like an asshole. He knows Teej would say the same. "I don't know if its cause its the first of the season, or what-"

"But if he comes out too soon, you're gonna spank him?" Matt asks, and Teej and Devon snicker. 

Shane feels his jaw go slack. He knew he was being a little hard on the little guy, but he didn't think-

"Wait," Teej says, but he has this evil grin on his face that doesn’t bode well. "He doesn't know."

Shane blinks. There's a faint feeling of dread, even though Teej isn't recording right now. 

"Know....what?"

❀✿❀

When Ryan came running out, covered in a pink flush and drenched in sweat, Shane had a hard time not staring at him. It wasn't that he had never had the problem before...so much as he was good at compartmentalizing. He was your typical midwestern guy.

Ryan was attractive. Ryan was funny. He had a lot of appeal. Shane wasn't blind. He knew it was a part of the reason why the show was so successful.

They were also qualities he had been able to dim down or place very firmly into the friendship box inside the attic of his mind a long time ago. 

When they’d met, Shane had known two things right off the bat: Ryan was adorable. Ryan was also painfully straight.

And like, painfully straight in the gayest sense of the word. He waxed lyrical about Henry Cavill's abs, sang praises about LeBron's physique and brought up Tom Hardy and Armie Hammer more than Shane's incredibly out and proud brother.

Shane was bi in the quiet, indie queer sense of the word. He wore enamel pins on jean jackets and cuffed his pants. That's about as far as he went.

Needless to say, the fact that they had begun to be shipped by a certain portion of their fanbase had initially been the cause of some distress from the Ry Guy.

Shane wasn't exactly thrilled about it at first either.

Mostly because Ryan's fretting, "They think we're fucking??" had made him flashback to one too many weird times in college.

Luckily, they were able to move past it with a general rule not to bring it up on the show or whatever assuming it’d die down eventually.

Shane did not touch that side of the internet, for Ryan's sake. They had interns scan for G-rated platonic fan art, and he did his best to ignore any comments about how cute they were together. Ryan was extremely dedicated to this show, and Shane was extremely dedicated to not fucking things up.

But that was before he called him Daddy.

❀✿❀

The queer community was big and amorphous and kinky. Shane was never a big kinkster, but he'd dipped his toe into the proverbial kink pool a few times.

He was kink adjacent. Kink-curious. Generally speaking, he was open to trying new things. 

It wasn't all for him. 

He thought the closest thing he'd liked was trying his hand at domming a little, but it was emotionally draining to do with strangers, and he didn't really want to slap someone across the face and call them a bitch in order to get them off. 

There was a bit of a disconnect, there. He knew that some (especially strangers) thought he was intimidating. They assumed it would translate naturally into sex. Which wasn't to say he didn't like the sex, fuck, he did. 

But what he really liked about it was the control-the taking care of them in a scene, the "aftercare" elements that really were kind of awkward to do at first, and were to develop and evolve with trust. 

Basically, what he wanted was a full-fledged, negotiated relationship, something that went beyond the bedroom and beyond the scenes, but those things didn't just pop out of thin air.

He craved it whenever he and Ryan had movie nights, whenever they sat too close or he felt Ryan looking at him so... fondly, even when he was being a little shit and just was trying to get a reaction out of him.

In spite of those carefully carved friendship lines, he craved something more.

He knew he was dancing a dangerous line when he got a little...strong with him, at times. It wasn't on purpose, at first. It was actually an accident. He had been tired and Ryan was fretting, and for once, instead of his usual 'do what you want' attitude or even his passive-aggressive comments, he had snapped and told him exactly what he was going to do.

It worked. It unquestionably worked. Ryan listened, stopped panicking and did whatever he said.

So he kept doing it...nothing untoward, and not all the time, but the right comment here or there, when Ryan was at his most anxious and Shane saw him visibly relax. 

He almost wished he could tell him (heaven knows it might help him in other aspects of his life) but how did one tell their (straight) best friend that he had submissive tendencies? ("Jesus Christ, Sir.")

He just never thought Ryan would be the one to bring it up.

❀✿❀

Shane was cautious, even after they told him. There was still the chance that he was joking, or didn't understand the implications somehow.

But then Teej brings the D-word up when they're checking into their hotel and Shane gets a front-row seat to see Ryan go as pale as a ghost. 

Well.

Not a joke, then.

Ryan then blushes like he's got the power of a thousand suns beneath him, and Shane _knows_.

Ryan isn't defending himself. He isn't snickering or coming up with some half-ass excuse. He's just standing there, looking small.

Shane manages a more appropriate joke, to Teej, the actual father, who laughs it off and leaves for the night. 

Then it was just the two of them.

Ryan standing there, looking like he wished he was invisible, and a thousand different thoughts fly through his head.

Shane hesitates...but he remembers, just earlier, how Ryan had been so quick to latch onto his voice and obey when he told him to slow down (How he had flushed when he called him 'good boy' for listening) and takes the risk.

He heaves Ryan's bag back over his shoulder, tells him it's time for their routine (which isn't exactly a lie) and never looks back.

Ryan trips over himself to follow.

❀✿❀

The elevator ride up confirms it for him.

Ryan is still amped: he's practically vibrating with something anxious and possibly even thrilled, in that way he gets when he doesn't know what Shane's going to do next (but can't wait to find out--no matter how much bull he spouts). 

"What about the vending machines?" Ryan whines, but he's testing him, waiting to see if he'll call him out on it, if he'll follow through.

"If you're good," Shane says, and it surprises him with how naturally it comes to him (and how quickly it silences Ryan's chattering little self) as they make their way to the room.

He sets the bags on one bed, a bold move, and goes into the bathroom (another bold move) and turns on the tap for the bath.

He waits to see if Ryan will follow. His hands are sweating. He takes off his jacket, rubs his palms on his jeans. 

"Ryan, I won't ask again," he says, growing impatient, but also anxious in his own way, worrying that he got this wrong.

Only difference was, _he_ knew how to hide it. 

He's supposed to be the cool one, the one in charge.

When Ryan comes in the room, Shane watches him take it all in, eyes traveling over Shane, kneeling by the tub, the water running, steam beginning to gather.

He can practically see the wheels turning behind those eyes. 

All it would take would be for Ryan to call his bluff--and he'd fold. Ryan has no idea how much he's putting on the line for this.

His hands go up to that too tight hawaiian shirt and freeze, hovering over the buttons. 

The Ryan of three years ago would never have let himself get this far. Shane arches a brow, a challenge. 

He doesn't know what this Ryan will do. He's not going to push him. Not for this.

Ryan begins to unbutton his shirt. 

Shane's eyes trail away, back to the bath, projecting calm and even disinterest, but hearing Ryan undress right next to him, knowing he's doing it for him is one of the craziest feelings he's ever had. 

He doesn't know the extent of what Ryan wants...

Had always assumed he'd find a lady domme, or at least a man stunning and conventionally attractive enough to get him to admit he likes men.

Whatever he chose, it wouldn't be...him.

The water is ready. Not too hot, just full enough, and Ryan is naked. Shane's eyes flit to him, standing there, vulnerable and beautiful.

Shane forces himself not to stare. 

"C'mon," he says, pretending that there's nothing out of the ordinary about seeing Ryan entirely naked, not wanting to show how much it’s affecting him, how much he’s afraid of fucking this up. "Be a big boy and get in the tub."

Ryan obeys.

He respectfully doesn't look at Ryan's ass when he steps in in front of him, knowing this relies entirely on Ryan's trust in him.

They're friends.

...really, really good friends.

Ryan splashes him unintentionally as he gets in, looking deeply uncomfortable, and Shane tries to help him and his painfully awkward apology. 

“Psh, it’s just a little water baby,” he says dismissively, and Ryan’s shoulders seem to loosen a little bit.

Ryan has his knees to the chest, vibrating with nerves, and Shane carefully...rearranges him so he's sprawled out in the bath. More amazingly, Ryan lets him. It makes Shane's heart twinge.

"Shall we start with your hair?" Shane asks softly, and Ryan nods his head. "Yeah," he says, just as softly, and Shane, realizing his limitations, scoops up some water in the cup of his hands and begins to get his hair wet.

  
There’s something about seeing him all wet dark hair, big eyes and clumped eyelashes.

The water trails down his head, in rivulets, going down his pecs, his shoulders, his arms... its hard not to get caught up in their journeys into spaces he's never allowed himself to look--into the hollow of his throat, the curve of his bicep, down, down, down, his chest into dangerous territory, and into the bath.

Ryan's eyes are large and dark and its hard not to stare right back, but he takes the hotel bottle of shampoo and squirts it out into his hands.

He's never done anything like this for anyone else, isn't sure he'd want to-but once he finds his groove he finds that Ryan's easy, that he's as easy as he's ever found him, loosing all that tension and fear beneath the touch of Shane's hands and the warmth of a good bath. 

Ryan makes this sweet, warm humming sound, so low its almost like he doesn't know he's doing it. 

Shane's doing it to him, he knows, as he massages his scalp.

(He sounds so...so...Shane doesn't dare look in the water, but he wonders...)

"You like that, huh?" Shane asks, and Ryan sounds blissed out.

"Yeah," he says, and Shane could kiss him.

Shane hums to avoid saying anything too telling, and then carefully (so carefully) goes in to rinse off his hair.

When he takes the bar of soap and the washcloth, there's a moment of tension-wondering whats acceptable, whats okay--but Ryan looks so peaceful after a night of panic that Shane feels he owes him this.

"Can I have your arm, please?" he asks first, and Ryan moves, sluggish and slow but obedient, and Shane tries not to let that get to him as he begins to wash his body.

There's something about this moment that feels like its outside of everything else, like its is own holy space.

Whatever Ryan wants, Shane thinks, he should know what a good dom would say--

...what a good Daddy would say.

“You were so good tonight,” Shane says, cleaning his shoulder with his washcloth, but watching Ryan's face. "So brave."

Ryan swallows visibly. "I don't know about that," he begins to say, and Shane knows him--knows he's going to say something self deprecating. Its funny sometimes, how he does that, but not always.

Its not funny tonight.

"I do," he says, putting some heat behind his words and Ryan blushes and says nothing.

Shane goes to wash his chest. He's trying to keep this G-rated as possible. 

Giving him The Experience, but...platonic. 

He brushes over his nipple with his thumb, not intentionally, he doesn't exactly mean to, but Ryan lets in a shaky breath and Shane's throat goes dry as the Sahara. 

The words spill from his lips before he can stop them. 

“I heard what you said,” Shane says quietly. “I mean-they told me, what you said-“

“Shane,” Ryan voices weakly, and he looks terrified. Shane doesn't like that look on him, especially after all the work they've done tonight, but hell, he's terrified, too. 

“-and,” Shane’s voice shakes more than he'd like to admit, “I wanna be that for you,” he says, laying all his cards on the table. ”If you want me to.”

“Shane,” Ryan gasps his name, and it sparks something in him. He's not sure if he wants more, or if he wants him to call him something else--to call him...

“I mean it,” Shane swears, watching Ryan's large eyes fill with tears. Its a stab in the gut. 

“It doesn’t have to be...anything more," Shane promises, willing Ryan to understand, nearly begging him to. "I won’t expect anything else-“

He traces the cloth down Ryan’s chest, stopping before it dips into the bath. “—I’ll keep everything...above water if that’s what you want.”

A beat. Ryan's eyes on his.

“Shane,” Ryan says again, and Shane waits for it. The awkward dismissal of everything they've done tonight, a gentle let down.

And, after all his careful touching, Ryan touches him for the first time that night.

His hand sparks against Shane’s skin as it gently loops around Shane's wrist, and Shane thinks, 'Oh no' and 'he's going to push me away' but Ryan's eyes never look away from his, full of quiet hopes and pleading obsidian, as he takes Shane’s wrist and leads it down below the bathwater, brushing so softly against his stomach until he brings him to touch his shockingly hard cock.

Shane's heartbeat thuds in his ears.

“Daddy,” Ryan whispers, just loud enough for him to hear him-so there's no doubt as to what he said...no question as to what he wants. “Please.”

All of his breath leaves him in that moment and Shane surges forward to find it in somebody else, kissing Ryan so hard he almost knocks his poor head against tile and porcelain. 

It takes him a second to realize Ryan's..not kissing back...

There's the briefest pressure back, but he's already pulled away, hovering over him and the water, wanting to be absolutely sure--

“Sorry,” Shane breathes. “I didn’t ask-“

“Mph, please,” Ryan says, and Shane's heart skips a beat as he feels those hands on him, dripping wet but firm and_ sure,_ pulling Shane back in to kiss him just as fiercely, speaking against his lips. “Don’t stop.”

His wet hands tangle at the nape of Shane’s hair and Shane cups his face, making incoherent (embarrassing) sounds as Ryan bites at his mouth.

Shane cups the back of his head to keep him from hitting it against the wall this time,his free hand remembering to go back where Ryan lead him as he pulls at Ryan’s cock and Ryan whines into his mouth.

“Daddy, daddy please,” Ryan begs, and Shane pants against plush lips as he jerks him, trying to get him off.

“Come on baby,” Shane says, wanting to, no—needing to see him taken care of. “I’ve got you-”

In no time at all, Ryan’s coming, spilling himself into the water.

Shane holds him as he shakes, pressing kiss after kiss against his mouth for as long as he thinks he can get away with it, and then lets go, and lets the evidence drain away with the remnants of the bath, stretching as he stands and gets a towel.

"C'mon, sweetheart," he says under his breath, as he helps Ryan up, swaying and boneless, and towels him dry, lets him lean against him before scooping him up and carrying him to the bed.

It might be his imagination, or maybe he's afraid of falling, but Ryan presses himself against him the whole time and Shane can't even begin to be mad about something like a damp shirt.

He peels back the duvet and gets him all cozy in bed before he hears it.

Ryan’s stomach growls.

Ryan blushes, turning pleading eyes at Shane but he just laughs and looks at the ceiling. “What do you want?” he asks, really more amused than anything. 

“Snickers, please,” Ryan says. “And...a coke?” 

Who is he to get deny him anything?

It had been a long night, after all. Too long for DoorDash or Taco Bell. 

Shane allows himself a small toll that consists of a kiss to the top of his head, wraps his flannel around his waist for modesty's sake, takes their hotel key and steps out.

The brightness of the hotel hallway is very surreal after the cozy private aura of their room, and he some small part of him is afraid of being away for too long in case that magic that allowed this to happen fades away...in case he gives Ryan too long to worry about things and he changes his mind...

The coke bottle slides down into the little receiving end, and he takes it out, balancing it with one hand as he fumbles to get Ryan his other snack. He picks something for himself at random and hurries back. 

Ryan is waiting for him.

“Does this mean I was good?” Ryan jokes as he opens his snickers, and Shane sits himself down on the side of the bed, atop the duvet, watching him, unsure of how much Ryan wants this. 

Can he even begin to understand how good he really is?

“Of course,” Shane says anyway, lays it down for him soft and gentle. “Really good.”

"Oh, good," Ryan says casually, sipping at his soda. Even shirtless in bed (and naked beneath the covers) Ryan is affecting nonchalance, the way Shane often does.

The only difference is, Ryan's not good at it.

Shan watches his ears turn pink.

Not wanting to press the issue (and feeling a little satisfied and exhausted himself--he didn't finish tonight, but that's not what this was about) Shane turns on the hotel tv to some channel that does reruns of old eighties movies, and gets in the bed next to him, quietly eating corn nuts while Ryan finishes his reward.

He’s begun nodding off again by the time Shane gently pries the trash out of his hands and says its time for bed.

Still unsure of The Mood or any expectations, Shane goes into the bathroom to change, coming out in just his tee shirt and boxers. It'd been enough time that there's no real worry about showing too much, or making things weird. Can't be any weirder than sleeping in the same bed where his old pal Ryan Bergara is sleeping naked.

The TV turned off, the last to go is the bathroom light, before Shane makes his way to the bed, in darkness. 

The last image he got was Ryan, peering at him with the blankets up to his chin. It makes him smile.

It’s almost the same as any other night they’ve had before, but it's different now.

But thats alright. Different is good. Different can even be great.

Shane's halfway to sleep.

But then he hears Ryan say his name in the dark. 

“Hmm?” Shane mumbles.

“Daddy,” Ryan whispers, and suddenly he's wide awake.

He shifts, moves closer to the voice. Too soon for nightmares, he thinks blearily, but maybe he's scared again?

“Yes?”

“I didn’t-" Ryan begins to fumble with his words, soft and embarrassed, and Shane would give a lot to see his face. It's hard not to reach out and touch him. "I mean earlier-when you--I didn’t help you,” Ryan says, voice barely above a whisper and suddenly he knows what's talking about.

He knows what a big deal it is for Ryan to bring it up, to make a move on his own, and suddenly loves him so hard it takes a second to remember to speak. 

Unfortunately, his dick is also aware of what Ryan’s referring to, and is considerably less charitable than his heart or brain.

“That’s alright,” Shane whispers back, smiling at him, even though he can't really see him.

“No,” Ryan insists, getting petulant, and its kind of cute, even if Shane hopes its not just a tit-for-tat sort of thing. “I want to.”

Want to?

Shane makes an aborted movement, like he's going to touch him again, but hesitates and swallows thickly. 

He's not sleepy at all right now.

“Well, if you’re sure-” he says very softly, and Ryan kisses him.

It zings, the moment their lips touch.

Shane's lost to him.

“Please, daddy,” Ryan begs, and suddenly Shane's harder than he's ever been in his life. “Let me help you.” 

Shane lets out a shaky breath and kisses him, too.

He presses into the kiss, his tongue slipping into the soft palate of Ryan's mouth and tastes-

A moment passes before he pulls back, laughing softly.

“What?” 

He can't keep the smile from his voice. “You taste like chocolate.”

“Oh,” Ryan says, sounding self conscious. “Sorry.”

“No,” Shane amends, already wanting more. “It's good. You taste good.”

They're almost touching, almost cradling one another on their sides, but then Ryan pushes him back into the mattress and crawls on top of him.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Ryan tells him,and Shane doesn't say he knows that, partly because he doesn't want Ryan to stop whatever it is he's trying to do, and partly because in this position he's at the perfect spot for him to touch his ass. 

“That’s okay,” Shane says, grabbing onto him and even though he’s not getting the visual To accompany it, its more than enough masturbation fuel to get him by for ages.

“Oh,” Ryan breathes. “Enjoying yourself?”

He has no idea.

“Immensely.” Shane gives his ass a squeeze and Ryan swears softly.

He feels Ryan, hard again, against his thigh which gives Shane a thrill.

He’s hard.

He’s into this.

Ryan begins to rut a little against Shane’s thigh until Shane frees his own cock from his boxers and his erection gets rubbed, by accident or chance, against Ryan’s stomach.

“Fuck,” Ryan says, and he sounds...impressed? “You do have a big ol’ boner.”

Shane laughs quietly, but he can’t keep the flush off his face. 

“It’s proportionate,” Shane says modestly, unsure of just how big Ryan likes ‘em (or if he likes them at all), when he hears Ryan say it: 

“God, I want it inside me.”

Shane’s mind turns to mush and molten desire. For a hot moment he’s thinking of taking him at his word on that, but then his brain manages to take over and slams the breaks.

Even if this isn’t Ryan’s first time with a man (and he thinks it is) they can work their way up to that. (he’s also fairly sure there aren’t hotel sized bottles of lube just lying around, which might put a damper on things.)

“Back home,” Shane says, maybe presuming too much in thinking he will want to do this again, but Ryan doesn't call him out on it.

“What can I-what can I do?” Ryan asks, sounding eager to please, and Shane rolls his hips and takes both of their cocks together. Ryan gasps, and feels gorgeous, both under his hand and on him, straddling his thighs.

Its not too much of a stretch to imagine him sinking down on his cock, taking every inch of him, and Shane has to get a grip before he embarrasses himself and comes now. 

“You just keep doing what you’re doin’,” Shane says, voice thick and slow with desire and Ryan ruts into Shane’s hand, rubbing their cocks together. 

God, it’s good, if a little dry until Shane licks his hand and helps them along.

He feels Ryan leaking, and boy, he’s a wet one, and it spikes another coal of desire in his belly. 

“Look at you, leaking all over the place,” Shane tsks, pressing at the head, thumbing at him until he moans.

“_Daddy_,” Ryan begs again, “Oh,_ fuck-”_

“That’s it, that’s right, baby,” Shane urges him, voice getting thin and tight as he begins to speed up his hand, rushing them to the edge. “Fuck, baby, I-” he rubs against Ryan one more time and then Ryan’s coming for the second time—and this time he can really feel it, it’s hot and thick and everywhere. 

Shane moans loudly, and rubs his cock against Ryan’s softening one, he’s so close, so goddamn close. 

“Daddy!” Ryan cries out and everything whites out as he joins him over the brink in orgasm.

They’re lying in the heavy-breathing sticky silence, and Shane thinks, as he wipes his hand on what may have been Ryan’s towel or the duvet that maybe this is a benefit of having two beds.

“Other bed?” he suggests when he’s caught his breath, and wiggly-limbed, they crawl out and clean up, tossing their luggage on the ground as they crawl into as-of-yet clean bed.

The high gone, for a long moment, they lay on their respective sides of the bed, staring at the ceiling.

Maybe, this was the downside to having two bed, Shane thinks. Leaving the afterglow for a little practicality. 

“Oh my god,” Ryan says to the ceiling, and Shane feels a dull sense of something like dread. “Jesus. Holy shit.”

“Are we panicking now?” Shane asks blandly, wondering just how much damage control he’s going to have to run.

He loves him, which is probably the worst part of all this. 

He loves him, but, part of that means he just wants what’s best for him.

What’s best for him didn’t have to line up with Shane’s wants. That’s not how any of this works. 

Ryan swallows and looks at him. “I mean...a little.”

Shane says nothing as he waits. 

“It was really good,” Ryan says, and Shane bites the inside of his cheek to avoid saying something unnecessarily bitter or mean. 

“Are you about to let me down gently?”

“No!” Ryan interrupts. “Not at all, Jesus Christ, I was just...” he can hear Ryan moving, in short frustrated movements like he does when he’s not understanding him. “It was _really _good, I can’t believe we didn’t do it sooner.” 

Shane’s heart skips a beat. “Oh.”

Ryan cuddles up to him in bed, taking his hand. “Yeah, Oh,” he says, and he can hear the smile in his voice and wants to taste it.

Shane squeezes his hand, and then wraps an arm around him, tugging him closer. Ryan follows, cuddling closer.

“What you said,” Ryan says after another moment, and Shane’s abruptly worried he said he loved him out loud. “About wanting to...wanting to be that for me.”

_Oh?_

Shane holds him tighter, waits. “Yeah?” 

“Did you...did you mean it?”

“I thought tonight would have shown you, I did,” he says, but he’s so ecstatic himself he can hardly hold back from saying it now.

_I love you, I love you, I love you._

Ryan turns in his arms, kisses his cheek. “I wanted to make sure you meant...for more than one night.”

Shane laughs in quiet disbelief. “I wouldn’t put all of this on one night...” I love you. “Ryan.” I _love_ you. “You’re my friend.” 

How can he say it? How can he show? It’s too much, too big, to say. It’s bigger than this night, bigger than even their show. 

“You’re my best friend, and I-I’d,” his voice shakes but he makes it speak somehow, even if it’s not everything. “-I’d love to take care of you in any capacity you’ll allow me to.”

Ryan presses his head hard into Shane’s chest, hugs him with his whole body.

“I love you, daddy,” Ryan whispers and it sets every cell in Shane’s body aglow.

Shane presses a fierce kiss to the top of his head, just the two of them in their dark hotel room. “I love you, too.”

❀✿❀

Ryan’s beautiful, Shane thinks, in the morning light.   
  
He doesn’t know what’s waiting for them, the moment they leave this hotel room, or even the second they leave this bed. It’s going to be harder out there, it’s going to take work.   
  
Ryan’s eyes flutter as he begins to wake, stretching with the cutest little yawn, smiling all sleepy and lovely in his arms. 

“Morning, daddy,” Ryan says, and Shane thinks he’s ready for anything.


End file.
